Who knew that construction people had an exclusive language that no mortal outside their clique could understand?
I had spent quite a bit of time transcribing an idea (of what a Writer's Shed should look like) onto paper.
It did not gain me an entry card into the builders' club. This evening I listened to a back and forth between Ed and Dave (former attorney-turned-Mennonite-and-thus-someone-who-is-no-longer-willing-to-engage-in-legal-dscourse-but-happy-to-dispense-construction-advice-to-the average-shed-builder) that left me thinking that I am perhaps the most incompetent individual south of Verona.
Both Ed and Dave glanced at my sketches. Ed commented: "no one writes 6.5 when they mean 6ft. 6in." And Dave asked: "what's that?" pointing to a rectangular shape at the edge of one of the sketches. To this, Ed answered with amusement: "Ignore it; that's her bed."
Yes, I know that construction people would find it to be a silly inclusion on a sketch of what's to go where, but how am I to give guidance about the placement of windows if I leave off such essentials as to where I should doze off when the writing's not going so well?
Anyway, the drive to the countryside (where Dave, the potential co-builder resides) was nice.
Sort of. If you can forgive the rain and the misty coldness and my hunger for sensible conversations about the key elements of building a Writer's Shed. Like where to place a bed, or even a large hook to hang a coat on at the end of a long and weary day.